


do not read

by anette



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, louis shakes his ass alot, louis tries to speak spanish, they have sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 09:20:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anette/pseuds/anette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this is not finished yet srry</p>
            </blockquote>





	do not read

**Author's Note:**

> so maddie is on a spanish music kick and im obsessed with louis' ass.

Louis didn't mean to become addicted to Spanish music, he really didn't.

It was just so wonderful, it gets him _soso_  pumped it somewhere along the way it had made it's way through his veins and into his  _corazon_. He'd always done a mean macarena but other than that Louis hadn't looked into Latin music much, (the fact that he didn't speak Spanish was most definitely _not_ a factor in that) but when he did, he winded up finding great solice in it's rich culture and African beats.

Louis should've been born Latin. It's where he belonged. Amongst his _familia_.

He had always been aware of his perky rear-end too. It was like his trademark in a way. He'd been teased about it a bit in highschool but he had soon come to terms with the fact that some people were just assholes- pun  _totally_ intended. When he became a part of one direction it was like a big "Fuck you" to anyone who had ever picked on him because Louis was doing big things while they were all probably living paycheck to paycheck at their day jobs or bartending at the shitty bar down the street from where they went to school. So now he flaunted his assests mercilessly, because the fans love it, and even if they won't admit it sometimes, everyone else loves it as well. And latin music was definitely the music he could use to do that. Louis was going back to his should've-been-roots and noone could blame him for that.

It took two weeks.

Two weeks of Louis blasting Latin music getting ready in the morning, while they made breakfast, before a show, during his shower, getting ready to go to bed, hell, he even fell asleep to it these days. He can see why the other boys and quite frankly everyone else, including Eleanor (and god-knows the shit she puts up with) is sick of it. Except he doesn't get it because how do you get sick of Latin music?

He can't really say he didn't see it coming, when he finds them congregated in the middle of their suite at the Ritz like some sort of support group.

Niall was perched on the arm of the sofa when Louis walked in, wearing a sympathetic look that Louis imagines he spent quite some time perfecting in front of his mirror. Zayn and Liam are wearing similar expressions from their place on the loveseat.

 Zayn speaks first ." Honestly Louis, what's up with the Spanish music? This is a bit weird, even for you." Louis absolutely does notgasp.

"You don't even speak Spanish, mate" Liam piped in.

"Oh, stop acting all high and mighty, you took 2 semesters of it in college. Do you want a medal?" Louis feels himself getting defensive, but  _really._ What he listens to doesn't concern them in the slightest, it's Louis's music.  And these are like his brothers, and they're _turning_ on him. Wounded by his own men, just because he's different.

It's like discrimination. Or something.

"No need to be a twat LouLou."

"Shut the fuck up Niall, _zapato de mierda_."

"Louis that didn't even make  _sense"_ Liam shot back.

Louis sneered.

"Why do you guys even _care_?!" Louis was raising his voice now, because he had a goddamn right. _  
_

" 'Cause I've heard enough about  _camisas negras_ and  _almas_  and  _corazones_ for about 3 lifetimes and I've just about had it. Look at Niall-he's shaking, poor thing." He gestures towards a very uninterested looking Niall, now sprawled out over the longer couch, concentrating intently on a hangnail and seeming not at all invested in the ongoing conversation; bless his soul.

"Actually I'm pretty okay over here, Zayn."

"Wow thanks for backing me up Niall, I'm trying to prove a point, hush it up yeah?"

"Oh. Okay."

"Harry get over here please." Zayn beckoned Harry to come closer, and his giant of a boy approached. Really, when did he get so tall? "Louis isn't listening to us."

What Zayn probably didn't count on was the fact that Harry always took his side. _Always._ So Louis spoke up with newfound confidence.

"Harry would you please tell our bandmates that I am  _completely_ justified in going through a Latin music thing or whatever? And who is Zayn to judge? Might I bring up February of 2012, you're weird thing for Mariah Carey?"

Louis shudders at the memory, because really. If it's two months after Christmas and you're still listening to Mariah's rendition of 'All I Want For Christmas Is You' you know you've got a serious problem on your hands.

He then promptly adds "Honestly, they're all being twats." for good measure.

"Oi I heard that, and Mariah is a legend how dare you." Zayn sounds genuinely offended, Louis is proud of himself.

Much to Louis's dismay, Harry just holds up both his hands and replies with,"I will take no part in this argument."

"You're taking their side!" Louis is actually yelling now "I can't believe you, _pendejo_."

"Atleast that time he made sense." Liam quipped.

Harry sent a pointed look at him and backs out through the doorway to his room with both hands still up in the air, most likely planning on making the most of their last night in a hotel until they arrive in Miami.

Louis definitely doesn't pout. Maybe Zayn ispouting a bit at that Mariah Carey comment, but fuck Zayn.

It takes all of 10 seconds before Harry opens the door and pokes his head back around the doorframe, adding "But I think I might like the dancing, so don't let up on that." with a suggestive wink, slinking back into his room and shutting the door.

Louis positively lights up at that. Zayn glares at the empty space and then at Louis, and back and forth a few times. He walks away shaking his head like Louis is some kind of  _lost cause._

Again. Fuck Zayn.

//

Being in a boyband makes pining spectacularly difficult for Louis. He and the rest of the boys hardly have any time away from eachother. Which is all good and dandy under normal circumstances- except when one of them is particularly gaseous- but Harry seems to like his Latin dancing and Louis likes Harry quite a bit.

He has fallen under the spell of the Styles's charm. And Louis will be damned if he doesn't at least try to get his attention. 

If he has the upper hand due to the way his bum looked while he salsa-ed (or whatever the terminology for that is) then he is definitely going to put that to use.

//

The first time Harry "catches" him, they're in the Ritz-Key Bizcayne and Louis is simply trying to make his bed when Harry happens to walk inside his room.

Okay, so Louis _may_ have accidentally taken Harry's phone and hidden it underneath his pillow. Regardless, Louis hears him coming so he turns his music up higher and sways his hips so hard that they rock his entire body with their movements. He can  _feel_ Harrys staring at him.

All of his hard works definitely pays off when he whips his head around, and gives his best smoulder to a babbling Harry Styles.

"I - um. I was just- have you seen my-uh" Louis smirks as he watches Harry scramble for words, watching his cheeks turning a delightful shade of firetruck red as Louis steps closer.

He fists Harry's plaid flannel with one hand and pulls him closer, asking him, nearly whispering, "What is it you need H? Looking for something?"

Louis faces up and Harry just-he just _looks_ at him. 

They're so close that they're breathing eachothers air for a second, which Louis think's can't possibly be healthy, and then Harry pulls away.

"Um no. I think I'll just- I'm leaving now, uh bye."he says while pointing behind him towards the door. Louis watches as he backs up, knocking into the door frame breifly on his way out. 

"So close." Louis hisses under his breath, for his own ears only, snapping his fingers.

 

At least now he knows, he's got this.

//

The rest of the week that they have off in Miami whirrs by in a similar fashion. 

Harry and louis find themselves in compromising situations over and over again. Louis is really starting to wonder just how much of an idiot Harry is because he falls for literally every one of Louis's tricks and is somehow always genuinely taken by surprise. They've always been fairly intimate with one another and their shocking lack of boundaries tends to astound those around them, but cuddling when you're both tired after a show and forehead kisses and things like that are quite different than finding your best mate's pina-colada favoured lube in your toiletries bag (one of louis's more ingenious ideas) and then proceeding to find him fingering himself beneath the covers when you try to give it back.

Louis is absolutely evil. A horrid human being all around. Sometimes he feels bad that he likes to fluster Harry so much. But truth be told he was enjoying it far too much to be too remorseful. Harry's flushed cheeks and embarrassed smiles and the most endearing thing in the entire universe if Louis is honest.

 

But he knows it's gone too far when instead of Harry, Liam finds his ID (Louis's running out of ideas okay?) and goes to return it, finding Louis in the most provocative position yet; face down, arse up in the air, fucking himself with a dildo.

"Hey Louis I found your-oh fucking hell, I'm so sorry-I'm leaving-sorry again. Fuck." Louis pulls out the dildo flipping over on the mattress and sighing in frustration because Harry Fucking Styles just doesn't know how to take a hint.

 He has his date with Eleanor tomorrow though, and she's always willing to listen to Louis's bitching.

Tomorrow he'll groan about it as dramatically as possible to her and she'll roll her eyes but nonetheless supply him with her input, so that Louis can glare at her and tell her she's wrong just so that he can take her advice anyways. That's the way it always is. Louis thinks he and Eleanor have a great dynamic. A bit counterproductive maybe, but still great. Eleanor has expressed different thoughts, something about how in all her years of studying to be an actress he's sure she didn't expect to get stuck as a make-shift therapist to who could possibly be the whiniest person she's ever met. Or something.

//

They're only about ten minutes into the date and Eleanor can't breathe, she's laughing so hard. She let's out another unattractive snort and Louis glares at her.

"El, I don't know how people believe you're my actual girlfriend, you're a bit disgusting, to be quite frank."

"Yeah right, if you were straight you'd be all over this just admit it. I just -Liam!? Of all people!?" 

"It's really not funny."

"It is. But you and Harry are really cute, even if you are a little psycho."

"I resent that. So is that a yes? You'll help?"

"What- no. Sorry Louis there's just no way." _what?_

"What? I just need you to help me out, give me ideas and stuff."

"No. No offense Louis but I honestly don't want to be involved in whatever mating ritual it is you've got going on right now."

"Eleanor I really hate you right now. Just please. " he drags out the 'ease'."For you're best-est friend." Louis adds a pout and and an eyelash flutter, because he never does anything half way.

She takes a loud sip of her drink, narrowing her eyes at him.

"No way, if Harry finds out I've been plotting this with you, he'll kill me. I have things to do too, goals to achieve. Goals that don't include being stuck bearding for you my entire life. I'm too young and cute to die now. Besides, you guys have been dancing around eachother for years. It's sickening. Really, Lou. There's no way he's not already totally head over heels for you." Louis thinks he hates her. Louis thinks he hates everyone.

She nudges him on the shouder, showing him her phone to display the time before picking up her purse and saying, "Just let it happen Louis, if you try to force it you'll only make yourself more frustrated than you are."

The ride back consists of Louis pouting and Eleanor not budging, not to mention she's stealing what's left of his drink. He wonders what he did to deserve a friend like Eleanor. Maybe in a past life he was a serial killer, or one of those guys that loiters at a Chinese buffet for 14 hours, taking advantage of the $8 per person entrance fee and eating everything they put out. Truly evil.

He sighs and puts his head on her shoulder anyway, feeling her arm go around his shoulder and he figures he'll be alright.

 New resolution: Ignore Harry, let him come to you. Dont force it. Okay, how hard could that be?

//

Turns out, it's way harder that Louis anticipated. The worst pat is, Harry seems totally uttery oblivious to Louis's suffering. Isn't he supposed tobe the best friend? Why is his best friend such a knuckle head? Louis would like to know that himself.

As a matter of fact, Louis was high strung and upset for a good 3 days before anybody addressed it.

He feels the cushion of the bed dip beside him.

"Hey, Lou what's been up? You seem a little, uh, off lately. It's like someone ran over your cat or somethin' "  _Of course_ it had to be Harry. Because who else would it be?

"Can it, curly. "

"Oi, just tryna help"

Louis's next reply is nothing but an indignant huff.

"Awe babe." Harry offers, pulling Louis into his lap. "C'mon you're stressing us all out."

Louis can't help but curl into him a little.  _Just a little._ Or maybe a lot. Because Harry smells like apple and Louis likes apple or maybe Louis likes Harry or maybe both because Louis is greedy but greedy is okay as long as Harry's there and they're friends and Louis can pretend he doesn't need much more.

So he inhales Harry's scent and let's himself be a little greedy because all we wants to do is have sex with Harry to something upbeat and Latin.

Louis sighs. He can't tell Harry. There's absolutely no way. Until now he's narrowly managed to maintain  _some_ of his dignity, and he's not letting go of it now.

"Uh okay" Louis looks down at the creases in Harry's off-white jumper, tracing them with his free hand from where they flatten out to where Louis' other hand is fisting the fabric.

Harry looks at him expectantly, only narrowly managing to keep his face straight; because he's so easily amused and smiling just seems like it's his default and it's terribly endearing if Louis must say. Sometimes [all of the time] Louis wonders how he refrians from punching Harry in the face because someone who's as enthusiastic and genuinely happy as Harry does should be infuriating. But then he remembers. Well. Yeah.

"I just. I don't think I can stop listening to it. I _love_ it" he lies smoothly.

"Is that it? Could've guessed that on my own, was expecting something a bit more interesting, if I'm honest. " Harry replies, raising an eyebrow.

"It's not as simple as it sounds"

"Oh really?" Harry Styles sure knows how to get on his last fucking nerve.

"You don't understand"

"I think I do."

"No, you  _really_ dont"

"Show me then."

Louis chokes.

" _What?_ "

"Get me to love it as well, I dunno isn't it like dancing music?"

"Well yeah"

"Do you know how to dance to it?"

"I've gotten quite good actually."

"So show me."

"Can't." He mumbles into Harry's neck.

"Why not pumpkin?"

"M'embarrased" Louis says, his reponse muffled.

"Awe what was that?

"You totally heard me, you prick."

"Let's go out to a club then."

"What?"

"Listen Lou, we're in Miami right now.  _Every club in the city_ probably plays Spanish music. We can even make it a gay club, and you can go hook up with some cute raven-haired-spanish-speaking bloke while getting the Spanish music stuff out of your system. It's probably just a phase anyway right? It's nothing to be ashamed of." _Phase._ Phase sounded about right. Maybe Harry was making some sense. He just needs to get this out of his system and fuck someone fit, it's been far too long since he's been laid and he's honestly worried cobwebs might be forming somewhere in his nether regions.

So they go clubbing.

The club is already packed full of bodies when they get there. Lot's of cute boys, and while initially he'd been a bit dodgy about going inside, (because if a club goes by the name of _The S.S. Elegance,_  it simply cannot be trusted) it's nice, with tasteful decor and too many fruity drinks, with latin music pulsing through his veins and flashing lights visible even when Louis closes his eyes. Louis knocks back his first couple of drinks and he's not really feeling it yet. So he downs a couple more, and some more. He gradually get's drunker and drunker by the hour until things are spinning and he's dancing and he's  _this_ close to pulling half of the guys in that club. He swears. 

He'll admit it's awkward having Harry as his wingman/chaperone or whatever he is. Because while Louis is out on the dancefloor, Harry is sipping what could be his second fruity drink of the night, while Louis lost count of his half an hour ago. He's watching Louis and Louis doesn't think it's purely to fulfill his duty as wingman and make sure Louis' hookups went smoothly. Because yeah, he knew right well that those latin dancing tutorials he watched on youtube did him well and he also knew right well that Harry was watching his arse, which may or may not be the platonic thing to do in this situation but Louis didn't particularly give a fuck. Someone crowds up behind him, and grinds up on him from behind. Louis lifts his arm to hold on to the back of the other man's neck grinding back down on him. They sway like that together for a while, eventually his hands make their way into Louis' shirt, riding it up a bit and Louis lets out a groan. The man's lips brush Louis' ear lobe as he speaks next, "Mmh, bathroom?" Louis hears a hispanic accent and gasps out something that vaguely sounds like  _fuck yes._ But he can't really be sure. It takes all of two seconds before he's being pulled by the hand towards the general direction where the bathrooms must be, he sends back a quick glance to Harry, who supplies him with an enthusiastic grin and two thumbs up. 

Once they're under the flourescent lights provided by the bathroom, Louis gives the other man an appreciative once over. He's older than Louis, mid-late twenties probably, oh and he's ridiculously gorgeous. It makes Louis feel self conscious even. But not really. He's all green eyes, and short black hair and pouty lips and everything Louis should want but he's full of sharp lines and he's got a small that's not as sincere as it should be (which is total shit because, really. What makes a smile sincere?) and something like discomfort starts to churn in his gut. But before he can say anything the other man is latched onto him, rushed to get off, Louis assumes. He leaves a couple marks Louis doesn't particularly want to have in the morning, scratches at Louis' back a bit too roughly and Louis doesn't quite know where to put his hands. He gets off his shirt -hm, no tattoos- and sinks onto his knees starting to undo Louis' belt buckle. He looks up at Louis and Louis finds he can't look back at him. He  _cant._ All he can think is  _wrongwrongwrong_ because his eyes are the wrong shade of green and maybe Louis just isn't ready for this right now. He pushes the older man away and works to do his belt. Green eyes looks back up at him with a look that conveys confusion and a little hurt. Louis sympathizes, he really does. But.

"I'm sorry I can't." Louis says, Green eyes looks adgitated.

"Yes you can, c'mon you've already got me all worked up." he says, standing and making his way closer to Louis.

"No really, please." Louis starts to panic as he crowds him up against the door of the stall. When he finds himself trapped against the door, he slides his hand up behind himself and unlocks it, sending both men tumbling out. Louis untangles himself, scrambles to his feet and rushes out- still stumbling- past the washing stations and out of the mens room. He hears the other man call out to him when he's on his way out.

"Fucking slut !" And. Okay. Yeah that stung. But Louis doesn't stop. He feels like he's suffocating in the smell of musk and sweat and alcohol and there's too much bass and he's too drunk and altogether too _fucked_ for this boy, he thinks. He can't breathe and he's still panicking and he wonders if curling up into a ball on the ground is an option about now. Probably not. So he keeps running, maneuvering his way through the crowd (he's quite proud of this as he's still spectacularly pissed) and bumping into a lot of unforgiving shoulders. He feels himself collide with another body, a bigger one, and when hands come around his waist to steady him he feels himself start to panic again but then there's that familiar smell of  _apples_ and  _Harry_ so he let's himself sink into it. Lets the hands- _big_ hands, he notes- support his weight for a moment but then Harry lets go and Louis' cold and he feels sick because not only is he more drunk than he initially thought, but the guy from the bathroom is staggering towards them and he slurs, accusingly pointing a long finger "Fucking _maricon_ , c'mere; can't even finish what we started" he tries to pull at Louis' shirt and then Harry is grabbing Louis from around the waist and pivoting him so that Louis' front is pressed to Harry's again. Harry turns them a bit so he's between Louis and the other man.

"Hey um, please fuck off, if you would be so kind." Louis smiles a bit at Harry's comment. The other man seems surprised that Louis' got someone with him, looking up at the voice speaking to him. His face drops, dissapointed.

"Whatever man, fuck." the other man says and then he's dissapeared into the crowd again. He can still feel Harry wrapped around him, engulfing his whole body because, yeah one night when Louis was asleep Harry must've become a tree and decided to grow almost a head taller than Louis but he isn't really complaining because in situations like this, it was actually quite nice. Harry's hands squeeze him for a moment before he leans down and asks "You alright to walk?" Louis nods against Harry's bicep but contradicts himself when he tries and stumbles and Harry has to steady him again but maybe Louis didn't really want to walk on is own anyways.

So Harry keeps a hand around his waist as they exit through the back door, Louis feels like he can breathe again. Sortof. Now there's a new kind of lack of oxygen that's making his head spin and maybe, just _maybe_ it has to do with the boy he's pressed up against. But Louis' tired and he doesn't want to deal with it right now, so he closes his eyes. Just for a second.  When Harry feels Louis' head begin to loll he holds him even tighter and presses his hand against the back of Louis' head, insisting he rest it on him and Louis doesn't quite know how he feels about that. Harry opens the door for him and eases him into the passenger's side, careful with him.

The next time Louis wakes up it's to Harry, unbuckling his seatbelt. His head is bowed down and it looks like he can't quite get it undone, his brow furrowed and his tongue poking out in concertration and it's really endearing and Louis wants to kiss him. Friends.  _Friends,_  Louis reminds himself. He shifts his body a bit and undoes his own seatbelt as Harry's head snaps up. Louis smiles a bit because Harry's hair has arranged itself into an accidental version of what used to be his signature curly fringe. Harry runs a hand up his hair, reinstating that outrageoously large quiff he had going on earlier in the night. "Cmon then" Harry says putting a hand behind Louis' back. He helps Louis out (Louis' still plenty tipsy) and leads him towards the entrance of the tour bus. When they get inside the tour bus all of the lights are off so the other's must've gone to sleep, Louis reasons. Louis climbs into bed and feels himself starting to drift off already while Harry goes off somewhere (probably to brush his teeth and change, because he's never comfortable without being clean first, freak.) but comes in and out like his body can't decide whether to stay awake or asleep.

Louis is drifting off again when he comes back, he climbs in to the too-small bunk (Louis can even feel Harry having to fold himself up beside him) carefully enough that Louis realizes Harry must think he's asleep. So he evens out his breathing and keep his eyes shut, he doesn't even flinch when Harry runs his hand up and down Louis' bicep, leaving goosebumps and a burning sensation in it's wake. Doesn't flinch when Harry tugs Louis gently so that they're even closer than before or when he tangles their legs together underneath the sheets, and he doesn't flinch when Harry lifts his chin gently with one finger and presses first one kiss on his forehead and then two lingering ones on his cheek. Doesn't flinch because he's happy and this may not have happened if he was awake.

"G'night pumpkin." Harry whispers and yeah, Louis doesn't flinch.

Louis wakes up in the morning with a hangover headache that makes him feel like a car crash actually took place inside his head. He thinks he might actually die. He pads into the kitchen to see that Harry's already left a glass of water with some pills on the counter for him with some breakfast and Louis decides he is not going dread yesterday over his eggs and toast, he'll deal with that later.

 


End file.
